Robert Frost, killjoy

When I woke this morning to the second day IN A ROW of delightful summery weather, my mind snapped immediately to Robert Frost's "Nothing Gold Can Stay." You know: the poem from the Outsiders? The one that inspired "Stay gold, Ponyboy?" This one:

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

And, well, it's a downer, for sure, but it's also true enough. I've been wearing garb appropriate to "actual" summer (short sleeves! cropped pants! no wool jacket!), rather than to the sad shadow of same we have here in San Francisco, and spending as much time as possible in my back yard, and mainlining the cherries and strawberries I bought over the weekend, and generally floating around in a damn silvery cloud of weather- (etc.-) induced bliss.

But at the same time I'm swooning with love for this weather, I'm also resignedly waiting for it to end. Because it will end. Quite likely soon. At which point you'll cease getting my shmoopy posts about how gleeful I am and will return to getting my morose posts about how I tire of wearing fleece and multiple layers in mid-summer.

So enjoy it while it lasts. That goes for all of us (you, too, Frost).

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